Teaching Shakespeare Supernaturally (Sam's Hot for Teacher)
by Beeswax
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a case of a cursed/haunted/hexed high school theatre with the help of two teachers who may or may not know who they are... Slightly meta.


"Miss Chandler! Miss Moore! Jeffery said 'Macbeth' in the theatre, again!" Helen was yelling as she ran down the amphitheatre aisle toward the two teachers with their heads together over a clip board. She was a stocky girl with dark stringy hair, several circular crops of pimples on her cheeks and a serious case of muffin top over her low-rise jeans.

The taller of the two teachers, much taller, actually, raised her head, "Well so have you, now, actually, so why don't you both go out the back stage door and take care of it. Thanks." She looked back down at the cast list on the clip board. "Amber, we need to start talking about either cutting some parts or a massive shift. We lose another kid and this show is toast."

"Yep. And whose idea was it to do Shakespeare in the Fall? I told you, Rose. Spring is better. These kids are not taking this seriously enough."

"Breaking Legs, having sandbags fall on you and getting concussions, choking because you are whistling is not a matter of taking it seriously. This is some serious bad luck!"

The whining and screeching caused both of them to look back up at the stage. Helen appeared to be trying to drag Jeffery across the stage toward the back door. She was the one whining, "Come on!" and he was the one screeching. Then there was a booming voice over all of that…

"To be, or not to be- that is the question:  
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune  
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-  
No more; and by a sleep to say we end  
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks  
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation  
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep."

Sophia, normally of the pixie voice and impish smile, was standing in the middle of the stage reciting. Her mouth was moving, but it was not her voice. As she finished a body attached to a hangman's noose fell from the ceiling and crashed to the floor in front of her. Jeffery and Helen fell silent as did the rest of the students working and talking in the theatre. Jeffery slapped the back of his hand into Helen's chest. "Do you really think it's cause I said, 'Macbeth?'" And then the real screaming started.

"What makes you so sure this is our kind of gig? Just sounds like school hijinks to me." Dean smiled up at the waitress and Sam waited until after she had turned away and then turned around the corner to say anything. He knew Dean wouldn't hear him until he could no longer see her assets.

"Bodies falling out of theatre rigging is not student hijinks, Dean. They can't figure out where the body came from, one kid's in a coma after reciting Shakespeare no one knew she knew and two other kids are in the hospital with some pretty nasty injuries."

"Come on we are talking drama geeks here. They all recite Shakespeare. It's how they talk to each other."

"Drama geeks?"

"Yeah. Theatre nerds. Stage rats… half of them are emo-freaks and the other half are… Look, right after a play, a couple beers, a speech about living life to the fullest and they are a nice piece of tail, but then in the morning there's all that talk of feelings and epic love and…"

Now Sam was smirking. "Wow, Dean, I didn't know you'd dated a theatre guy… Clearly it ended badly."

"Shut up. Like you didn't have that thing for what's her name, that drama teacher, your sophomore year, after your freak growth spurt. Dad and I go to flush that Rawhead in Fresno; we come back and you're wearing a fake nose and hanging out of windows. How girly is that?"

"Cyrano De Bergerac is the gold standard of romantic writing, but even better putting cocky arrogant jerks in their place…"

"Yeah, well, I know where you wanted to put that long nose."

"She was a teacher, Dean, just an inspiring teacher."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm telling you, there's something about the whole thing that just 'smells' wrong. What can it hurt to check it out?"

Dean reached over and took the newspaper clipping.

"And you want to use your super nose to sniff up the drama teacher now that you're not a snot nose kid…" He pointed to the picture of the teachers talking to police. He put his finger on the taller of the two women. "She's a dead ringer for Miss Cunningbut."

"Cunningham."

Dean cracked a huge grin. "And you just proved my point. But hey, I'm all for living your dreams… Let's go check it out."

"Look, I'm sorry, you aren't allowed in the school unless you check in at the front office." The teacher smiled up at them in such a way that left no doubt in Dean's mind that she would drag them out by the ears regardless of the height they had on her. Yet it was still a warm and friendly smile. Dean imagined that must be some kind of magic skill good teachers had, being scary and friendly all at the same time.

"Yes, ma'am, we are reporters from _High School Theatre Monthly_. Seeing as your high school theatre is so new we wanted to talk to you about establishing traditions…" Dean actually found the power of the woman's stare pretty powerful. He couldn't quite remember the names he and Sam were supposed to be pre-texting and that had never happened before. Sam jumped in, thankfully.

"I'm John Wetton, this is Steve Howe; we just have a couple questions about your program." The teacher tilted her head at the two of them is what Dean thought was a very Sam like pose. Then that smile was back.

"I would be more than happy to talk to you after school, after I've cleared it with my principal. It would be inappropriate for me to speak on behalf of the school without his clearance."

Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He jerked his head to glance behind him and ended up jumping two feet over and into Dean. There was a solid woman standing right behind him and her eyes were on his level.

"Sorry about that. I tend to have that effect on people." And there was that teacher smile thing again. Sam recognized both of these women as the ones from the photo, but there was no way to have realized from the photo that the heights were not of the expected proportions. This teacher, the one who looked a lot like Ms. Cunningham, Dean had been right, was at least the same height as Sam. With her shoes on, and they were heels, she may have been taller.

Sam righted himself awkwardly and Dean alternated between looking annoyed at being stymied and overjoyed at Sam's new lack of balance. The shorter darker teacher gave a very quick conspiratal glance at her colleague, but her eyes were back on Dean as she spoke.

"These two gentleman are here to ask about our new drama program. They say they are from _High School Theatre Monthly_ , but I think they might actually be from, ahem, Asia."

The tall teacher squinted her eyes in confusion. Then the two made eye contact again and Sam could have sworn they were talking to each other telepathically… He glanced at Dean, who was watching it too… Dean glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. Sam heard Dean's voice as clear as if he'd spoken it out loud, "Maybe it's more of that teacher magic?" Sam shook his head. "Nope, just close. Like us?" Dean sighed. "Point taken."

The tall teacher was now looking at Sam and Dean and she was smiling brightly, genuinely.

"Hi. My name is Rose Chandler. I teach English here and work with the drama teacher, Miss Amber Moore." She nodded toward the shorter, darker woman, who was also now grinning like a surfeited cat. "And you two are no more here to talk about our theatre program than the man in the moon. You want to know about the theatre curse we seem to be dealing with."

Dean looked back and forth between the two of them. What the hell?

"Well, yeah, actually. If we did, would you still need to talk to your principal to talk to us?"

"No. Not at all. We can talk about that all you want. No one else would believe us anyway and it's not like the principal is going to do anything about it." And with that Miss Moore turned on her heel and headed out of the theatre.

"Why don't you boys come with us and we'll go somewhere other than the theatre to talk." And with that Miss Chandler headed out of the theatre too…

Dean's eye brows hit his hair line in surprise. "What do you think, buckets of crazy or…"

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head, chuckling softly, "Teachers, Dean. They are the real thing and they had us made from the second they saw us. Probably better go hear what they have to say."

Dean took a deep breath. "This is why I hated school. We gotta be straight with them, huh?"

Sam nodded, "Full Monty. But I bet they are gonna be able to help."

Dean followed Sam out of the theatre. "Just what we need, ghost hunting teachers with built in lie detectors and smiles that can freeze your blood." He reached out and grabbed Sam's arm, stopping him, "and, Sammy, I'm pretty sure that big one could stomp you into dust."

Sam shrugged non-commitally and kept walking.

Rose looked over at Amber as they drove to the diner in the next town over. "You really think these two are…?"

"Those aliases, the fact that they are here asking questions… Becky said it was real. Stands to reason."

"Crap. That means that we were right about the theatre being cursed… I'm never gonna direct a full Shakepearean show, am I?"

"Oh, Good Heavens! Calm down... Should we tell them we know…?"

"Seriously, Amber, could we be any creepier? I say we go with 'wise teachers who know the reality of the world' and leave obsessive fandom out of it. This is a story we can tell our students the year we retire."

"But, there are so many things I want to ask and…. Hey, did you pick the diner because….?"

"Because it's outside city limits, he likes cheeseburgers and… yeah. But only for you."

The car was parked in front of one of the more run down looking diners the boys had seen in some time and yet the parking lot was not empty. Sam was through the door and already heading toward the back where the two women were sitting before Dean had completely dragged himself out of the Impala. The music blaring from an old fashioned juke box hit him before the delicious deep fried smells. There were Led Zepplin, Mega Death and Metalica posters on the walls. If the burgers were half as good as the atmosphere… But then there was the whole being honest, and dealing with teachers to balance it out. Sam was already confessing everything, their names, their real names and what they did as Dean sat down and the Cunningham look-a-like seemed to be reassuring him with an almost condescendingly maternal tone.

"Look, we knew you two must be hunters. We thought, hoped even, someone might look into the theatre problem."

Dean perused the menu and ordered from the taciturn waitress, while enjoying the music, before he spoke. Sam simply seemed too star struck after his purge to say anything. The women waited, expectantly.

Dean glanced around the diner, and then at the two women across from him and Sam. "So the reason we had to drive ten miles away to talk was because…?"

The short darker one, Amber, opened her mouth, but the really tall one, Rose, cut her off. "It's a small town. We can't sit and talk anywhere in town with it being private."

Amber jumped in "Besides, we're both single teachers, there could be gossip if we were seen locally with young men."

Rose rolled her eyes, "Amber, no one cares…." Amber looked hurt by that assertion and Dean shrugged at her sympathetically.

"So, you two think there is something wrong in your theatre?"

The waitress plunked down the food without a word. Dean bit into his burger. It was the best he'd had in years. He owed these women big! He was so absorbed he didn't catch the corner of Amber's mouth quirk up ever so slightly. Sam did catch Rose shifting slightly and hear what sounded like a quick foot stomp under the table. The quirk was gone as fast as it came and both women went back to their serene countenance.

Sam dropped the file onto the table, "What's not in the articles? 'Cause that's what we're going on."

The women looked at each other and sighed. Again, Amber opened her mouth to start and Rose cut her off. Sam imagined this might be the typical way these two communicated with others.

"It started when we sat down to talk to the kids about theatre superstitions and respecting the theatre. Things like not whistling, not saying the 'M' word…"

Dean glanced at Sam and mouthed, "'M' word?" Sam wrote the word "Macbeth" on the edge of the placemat and kept his eyes on Rose. She noted the whole exchange but kept talking like they were simply unruly children.

"… never wishing people luck. The only people more superstitious than athletes on game day are stage actors. High School and College especially. It's a way of bonding really, creating a sense of team and in secrets. Anyway, the kids got really into it, researching the traditions and rituals and stuff…. Except then things started happening."

Amber nodded. "First a child broke her leg falling off the stage after another student wished her luck. Then a student whistled to get someone's attention and a sand bag fell on her. We don't even use sand bags with our drop sets. It's all automated. Courtney's still in the hospital from that one. Then there was The Scottish Play and Hamlet business… The body that fell out of the rigging was a local indigent. We don't know why he was there or what happened to him, but the kids were pretty freaked out. And Sophia is in a coma and no one knows why. She just started spouting the Bard and clanked out."

Sam nodded. "So you think the kids activated some type of theatre curse. Why didn't you just cancel the play?"

Rose giggled nervously. "Two reasons. One superstition is that, 'the show must go on' and two, um, well, there's a lot of pressure to perform…"

Amber shook her head. "Rose ticked off an administrator with an agenda, one of the assistant principals. Even though I am the drama teacher, just so we are clear, Rose has been informed that she will be fired if the show doesn't happen on time, and to a lot of critical acclaim."

"And I told you to let me quit. Kids don't care about literature and I can go somewhere and do… something else. It doesn't matter anymore. I don't matter…"

Sam reached across the table and squeezed Rose's hand. "You can't give up. We'll figure this out. Kids need good teachers." Rose looked comforted for a second, then pulled her hand back self consciously.

Dean shuddered slightly. "Yeah. Um, so if you two are the resident theatre experts, how do you cancel this curse?"

"We tried, but this doesn't make a lot of sense to us as a whole, I mean we never really believed in it anyway, it was just something to use as a lesson, team building? Trying to figure out how to undo something we don't even know how we did is sort of problematic."

Rose had it together again. "Besides we thought if we acted like we believed it the whole situation would get worse, escalate. I mean, I really wanted to do Much Ado About Nothing, but I don't want anyone to get hurt over it… Then you guys showed up, so I figure we need to cancel the show." She glanced at Amber. "I'll just move to Maryland; move in with my mother."

Amber rolled her eyes. "We are not having this discussion again."

Dean tapped on the table to get their attention. "So you don't want people to see you with guys 'cause you two are a couple?"

Both women dissolved into giggles. Amber got her breathe first. "Um, no more than you two are. We're just friends."

"Why do students always assume that anyone a teacher is friends with is a romantic connection?" This time Amber reached over and put her hand on Rose's arm. Obviously this was another pet peeve of the woman's. What a melodramatic mess! Dean glanced over and noticed that Sam was eating it up. Poor boy, he really did have a thing for teachers. Who knew? OK, well Dean knew, but he hadn't thought it would be this bad.

Dean sat down on the bed closest to the bathroom and looked up at Sam, wrestling his duffle past the door. "I told you, theatre geeks are bad news. This one is gonna bite us is the ass, I can just tell."

Sam smiled. "Sure you don't want that Moore woman to bite you there instead?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't put your kinky school boy dreams on me. You're the one lusting after that tall passionate unsung hero."

"Being a teacher is important, Dean. They are heroes."

"Seriously? Besides, neither of those broads are Michelle Pfiefer, so put it away. They are also, in case you didn't notice, kinda outside the age range…"

Dean could see Sam winding up over that one, but thankfully Dean's phone rang. "Yeah. … Damn… We'll meet yo… Oh. OK. Um, yeah." Dean hung up.

"Another kid's in a coma and the one already in the coma just went critical. Amber said if we go in we need to pick better aliases, but they aren't going so that our covers won't be blown."

Sam's phone beeped. He glanced down at the text. "Yeah, Rose has a suggestion too…"

"Um, yeah, I'm agent Barrett and this is agent Browning, from the health department. We understand there seems to be some health and safety concerns with your facility?"

The rather old, rather stern looking man did not look happy to see them. School Board members didn't have that warm smile thing teachers did; just the look of an overworked undertaker.

"The doctors told me that the children have two completely unrelated illnesses that are causing syncope and prolonged lack of consciousness."

Sam wasn't sure Dean knew what that meant, so he translated. "The kids are passing out and staying in comas." Sam kept his eyes on the man as he said it to avoid Dean's dirty look.

"Yes. However it has nothing to do with the facility and past that you will need to speak to the superintendent if you have any more questions."

"Do you mind if we take a look around?" Sam didn't expect that to work, but…

"Sure, if there are no students in the theatre. Please do not speak to anyone without their parents and an administrator present."

And then they were walking down the mostly empty hallway alone.

"Wow. He was helpful."

Sam shrugged. "Administrators. Rose didn't seem to like them, and she said this group was rather cold."

Dean nodded, "but determined. OK. So what do we think we could find?"

Sam shrugged as he opened the door, "No students, hopefully."

The theatre was dark and empty.

"Nah, this isn't the least bit creepy." Dean said looking along the wall for a light switch and going further and further down the winding stage wing. Sam reached up higher and found the panel. Suddenly the entire space was brightly lit.

"Over-grown freak."

"Jealous."

"Whatever."

They walked along the wing and around onto the stage.

"The rigging is actually pretty sparse. Not much up there. Where did a sand bag come from?"

Dean kicked at an edge of curling board on the stage. "From the place ghost sandbags usually come from. Hey, how did that kid break her leg?"

"Tripped over a loose board and fell off the stage. The school nailed it down more securely."

Dean got down and looked at a big nail head at the top of the board.

"This is the only nail like this here. So this must be the board that they nailed down, you think?"

Sam concentrated up at the lights. "Probably."

"So why did it suddenly curl up. You think something's under it?"

"Try to pry it up."

"Dude. There's glue all around this thing. They nailed it and glued it. Think they were trying to avoid a law suit?"

"School systems are easy targets for law suits. It makes sense that they would want to show good faith correction of a problem."

"Thanks, Matlock."

Using his pocket knife, Dean began to pry around the edges. Sam pulled out his too and began to help. They couldn't get past the nail on the far end, but they got the other side up enough that they could twist it around and see into the space beneath. There was a small leather bag.

"A hex bag? At a school? Really?" Dean shook his head in exasperation. "Freakin' Witches."

"Dean, I don't think it's a hex bag." Sam went to work on the binding, but Dean wasn't listening.

"Should have figured with all these teachers that there was a witch somewhere."

Sam had opened the bag and was pushing around the contents. "It's not a hex bag. There are just a few bones, finger bones I think, but nothing else and no spell work."

Sam pulled the EMF reader out of his pocket and passed it over the contents.

"However, whatever it is IS all kinds of hot. Why would someone put this here?"

Dean lit on an easy escape from witch hell. "So we just burn this?"

Sam laughed ruefully. "It is never that simple and that couldn't be the only remains, so…"

Dean was at a loss… Sam stood up and walked around with the EMF reader passing over the stage.

"But, whatever it is only registers there, so maybe, that is it?" Sam sounded almost disappointed.

Dean got to his feet and threw the kid a bone. "So, time to go to school. Let's hit the books."

Sam cocked his head in thought. "You think we should ask…." But Dean shook his head. "No, Sammy, we are not feeding your teacher fetish tonight. Maybe you can be teacher's pet tomorrow."

"Better than being the class clown."

 _Miss Chandler turned to her class holding her long sharpened pointer firmly in her right hand, "Now class. Why would Shakespeare have gone to the trouble to specify in his will that his wife should only get the second best bed?" She passed in front of the first row. "What does this say about his relationship with his wife, Anne Hathaway?" She came to a stop in front of a gangly kid with the hood of his hoody up, slumped over his desk, sleeping peacefully. She slammed the pointer against the desk…_

 _"Samuel! Samuel! Wake up! This is not appropriate behavior! You are in high school!"_

 _The poor tired kid came awake with a shudder and a jerk. "Yes, Miss Chandler, I'm sorry! What was the question?"_

 _"You didn't hear the question?" She shook her head in disgust, clicking her tongue, "Detention!"_

 _Suddenly Sam was all alone in the room with a dunce cap on his head and Miss Chandler was wearing a witches hat and a completely transparent flowing black nightgown with nothing underneath. In her hand was a huge broom with bristles at one end, but a paddle on the other._

" _Now bend over and grab your ankles young man!"_

 _Sam lunged forward, sweeping her into his arms. "What if we just recreate the wedding night scene from Romeo and Juliet instead. Wouldn't that be enough for extra credit?"_

 _"And though I am owned I am not yet enjoyed… Romeo! Romeo!"_

"Wake up, Romeo, the 'teachers' said they can let us sit in on a rehearsal if we keep a low profile. Spouting more of this jibber jabber is not helping."

Sam jerked awake and but didn't roll over. "Um, yeah. Did you get coffee?"

Dean adjusted his polo shirt and slacks. It was a really odd look for him. Sam doubted that he was going to look any better, but Rose and Amber said it was what teacher type folks wore, especially young substitute teachers. "No. I didn't."

Then Dean chuckled. "Fine, I'll let you have a minute to, ahem, adjust yourself, but we gotta go, so... I'll meet you at the car."

Dean left Sam in the room with no hope that his dignity was going to make it out of this job intact. Typical.

Sure enough, when Sam got in the car, Dean had the radio blaring "Hot for Teacher." Sam didn't even look to see the smug smile, he just held out his hand for the coffee. The cheap gas station cup didn't protect his hand from the heat but this morning, he welcomed the burn…

Dean found the vividly red headed girl who sat in the row in front of him, constantly giving him looks through most of the drama classes in the theatre, vaguely unnerving, but she didn't do anything else all that creepy. There were some really strange kids in this bunch, three classes worth, but for the most part they were pretty typical teenagers, if a little over angsty. Amber handled the classes like a pro. Only Sam and Dean probably noticed how she managed to keep everyone off the actual stage. After the third class trundled out, Rose appeared and bounced down the isle like an eager twelve year old.

"So, did you guys find anything?"

Amber joined them. "We have about an hour and a half before rehearsal. What are we thinking so far?"

Dean felt like he was suddenly in the middle of a huge test he wasn't prepared for. Sam, though, was more than up for the challenge. He popped up and rattled off what they found under the stage board and finished with the possibility that it could involve a witch, but the more likely possibility that there was some type of assisted ghost activity involved.

"Witches! Oh you gotta be kidding me." Amber exhaled. Dean patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"That's what I said."

Rose nodded, "I can totally think of a couple skan… people who could be suspects for that."

Dean thought Sam looked scandalized by the possible language out of his sweet teacher hero. But he didn't add anything at this point. So Dean got to the point.

"We are gonna need to exercise the theatre to try to find the ghost and what it wants. Unless there's somewhere else you think a complete body could be hidden?"

Rose swished her mouth in thought. Amber tilted her head and both boys just stood there waiting for them to compute.

"Nah. I've looked everywhere myself. There's no body. Though I hadn't thought about the floor boards of the stage. Whose bones could those have been anyway?" Rose puzzled.

"Why can't we just burn those?" Amber asked.

Sam shrugged. "First we need to know if that's the only issue. It doesn't exactly look like a ghost but it doesn't exactly look like any magic we've seen before either…"

The lights went out and then came back on, then the stage lights began to flash red and blue. Sam and Dean both ducked, scanning the theatre for a presence, but the teachers stood straight, expectantly. The lights stopped. The boys stood up.

"That happen a lot?" Dean asked.

Amber nodded sadly and Rose patted her on the back supportively. "The theatre is just over a year old, this is its second year and because there wasn't an official program last year, I had to have them rewire it this summer. The wires are all kinds of fritzy. It doesn't seem to matter how many times we fix it, or who tries."

Sam looked to have a thought, "Who's tried?"

"I've been through the tech closet, Rose's been through the ducts, and Maintenance and County Tech have been everywhere, at least twice."

Dean's eyes went wide at Rose, "You crawled through the ducts?" Rose turned red and looked at her feet in a very un-teacher like gesture.

Amber snorted, "She always picks scissors…"

"And Amber knows more about the technology, but I can see if something doesn't look right in the ducts." She looked at Amber defiantly, "And I have no fear of spiders…"

Amber only turned slightly pink, but she nodded.

"Wait," Sam said, getting an idea, "The lights were reset over the summer?"

"Well, actually it started in March; I had the order in as soon as I knew I was coming here."

"You weren't here last year?"

Rose squinted slightly at Sam, not like he was stupid exactly, but like he hadn't been paying attention. Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing as Sam squirmed under the glance.

Rose spoke is a slightly halting voice. "We didn't have an official drama teacher last year. Amber transferred here this year. Last year it was just after school, me and Amber volunteering our time, but like we said before, no official drama teacher."

Amber took pity on the poor kid, and smacked Rose's shoulder. Rose's looks were a bit intense after-all. Dean found himself thinking maybe if Amber had been his drama teacher he might have given that guy with the funny nose a shot too…

"Last year there was a drama teacher, one period a day. But he was literally the biggest…" Rose began coughing to try and cover up what-ever Amber was saying. Amber just rolled her eyes. "The point is he's not here anymore. Good Riddance!"

Rose cleared her throat from the coughing, "Look, today is Thursday. Rehearsal will start in less than thirty minutes and be over two hours after that. Let's stay tonight and do whatever it is you need to do. Then we can fix it on Friday. We gotta make sure we don't leave a mess for the church that meets in here on Sundays."

Dean started at that. "A church meets in here?"

Rose and Amber both answered, "Yeah."

Sam bit his lip, "Maybe something objects to something else?"

Dean snorted, "Yeah, that's all kinds of specific. Thanks, Professor."

As Sam shoved Dean and Dean pushed back, Rose and Amber didn't hesitate to retort, "Boys!"

The rehearsal seemed to be going on without incident. Dean's head hurt just watching the chaos. Were all high school kids this whiny and melodramatic? And what was up with wearing too tight, too small, too low jeans that didn't cover their butts and looked like sagging diapers. Several of the kids seemed to stand closer to Sam and Dean on purpose to "air their dirty laundry" to each other about some perceived disrespect or melodrama. They often started by whispering loudly about the kids in the hospital, but they always moved on to their own issues. Even the kids that weren't dramatic per say were crazy. The screeching, squealing and slapping (Really?) were seriously out of control. Sam sat next to Dean with his lap-top open looking through more theatre lore cross referenced with church history. He also had a copy of the script open on the chair next to him.

Amber said the show was supposed to open in two weeks. Actors were wearing costumes at this point and a lot of prop pieces were scattered over the stage. Dean still wasn't sure what the play was about, but he had to admit, that Beatrice character was an awesome bitch and Benedick was the best kind of dick… a Smart Ass! Also, that constable guy was hysterical. The other characters seemed pretty vanilla and mildly stupid.

Dean felt himself drifting off to sleep when the screaming started. Sam nearly dropped his lap top as he shot out of his seat.

"Miss Moore, Miss Moore! Allison is stuck in the bathroom!" The chubby girl was running in circles as she screamed and the red head from earlier was standing next to her, the informer to the situation. Rose and Amber were already at the dressing room door when Sam and Dean got there. Rose had hold of the handle and was smashing herself against the door. Amber was yelling.

"Allison! Allison, can you hear me? Allison, can you try to open the door? Will the handle turn?" There was no sound from behind the door. Sam started slamming into the door with Rose. Dean reached for his lock pick.

"Stop! This is not working!" Rose stepped back, and jerked on Sam to get him away from the door. Dean knelt to the job. The door swung open to the girl lying cold on the floor. All around her were make-up and hair care products, and piles of clothes. Rose rushed past Dean to roll the girl over.

"She's breathing, but she's really cold. Call 911. Now!"

After the Paramedics had left, all the children were on their way home, the administrators had finished reaming Rose and Amber and the school was mostly empty again, Amber came and told Sam and Dean they could come out of the supply closet where they had hidden in all the hub-bub.

"Sorry, couldn't risk a board officer seeing you here. Or the principal asking questions…" she had an ice pack in her hands. She handed it to Sam. "Rose's shoulder was pretty bruised; she figured yours might be too. We're in my office."

Sam appreciated the ice. His shoulder did hurt. He felt a little sheepish that Dean had a bit more presence of mind on that incident, but Rose had been so determined.

They followed Amber into the office. Rose was actually lying on the floor holding an ice pack to her shoulder. Sam sat down on the floor next to her, in painful solidarity. Dean and Amber sat in chairs like normal people. That's when Dean realized Rose was crying.

"Alison was the best Beatrice we had. It's her senior year!" Rose wailed. Amber looked too tired to comfort her and Sam just sat there like a big dumb jointless puppy. Dean figured if Amber wasn't doing anything maybe there wasn't anything to do.

Amber opened her lap top and turned it on. "Allison is in a coma too. She's one of our best kids. Clearly we need to stop."

"So none of this stuff is happening when church is using the stage?" Dean asked.

Amber shook her head. "No. Not that I've heard."

Sam looked up at him, glancing back down at Rose helplessly and Dean shook his head. 'Just let her have it out.' Sam sighed.

"So whatever it is doesn't want to mess with the big guns?"

Amber considered this. "Maybe." Dean noticed she was counting down under her breath. She took a deep breath as she hit 'one' and cocked her head in Rose's direction, giving Dean a conspiratal wink. Dean looked over at Rose and Sam.

Rose abruptly sat up. She rubbed at her eyes and face, then took a deep breath. "OK. I'm fine now." And with the exception of her eyes being rimmed in red, she was. No shakes or sobs or anything. Apparently English was way weirder than Drama, Dean decided as she put her hand against the opposite arm and pushed, working her sore shoulder.

Sam mirrored the stretch. "What if it's not a ghost or a witch?"

"But there was EMF from those bones. And someone planted them in the theatre. That's ghost mojo AND witch mojo." Dean supplied.

"What if it's BS mojo?" Rose supplied.

Sam, Dean and Amber all tilted their heads at her, "Huh?"

"What if someone is just screwing with us? I mean, why would a ghost pick somewhere with no history, no lore, and no motive and while I admit I think of an administrator or two as a witch no one would want this program to fail. The kids want it, the teachers want it, and the church even sponsors us, so…"

Sam was nodding. "Who would benefit from the program failing?"

The light bulb over Amber's head was blinding. "Rose, what did all the kids who are injured and all the kids in a coma have in common?"

Dean was quick to jump in. "Bad acting?"

Rose actually threw her ice pack at him. "No, with the exception of Jeffery, they are actually all the good kids. Hard workers. They would stay late, work on sets, they all were helping us sort through the…"

Amber said it with her, "Make-Up kits!"

"OK, so the kids were being given contact hallucinogenics through the make-up kits. And some are in comas because…?"

"It's a fat soluble drug and no one thought to test for it. It's not common. Azelful, it's called in Celtic lore. Very old stuff. It builds up and then has to be neutralized in order for the effects to go away." Rose answered. "Amazing how that anonymous note caused the doctors to look. All the kids are being treated… Even the homeless guy, was just hiding in the theatre to keep warm and apparently got to playing in the kits." They all shuddered slightly at the thought. "He had the highest levels and his heart just couldn't take it. No ghosts, no witches."

Amber bent over her sandwich, but Dean heard the dejected, "Dammit" before she bit into it.

Sam seemed disappointed too. "But what about the bones?"

Rose shrugged. "That I don't know. But I don't think that is what the problem was. Though why there was a noose around that guy's neck bothers me too…" She took a spoonful of soup.

Dean really seemed to be enjoying his burger (and Sam figured Dean might get one To-Go as well seeing as the girls had covered the food… again.) Dean covered his mouth with his hand as he spoke in a show of respect that you had to know Dean to catch. Sam smiled into his salad. He knew Dean liked teachers…

"Maybe it was something he did while he was hallucinating. Random Coincidence and all that. Maybe he was the one who put the bone bag in the floor board too…"

Rose set down her spoon, "But you said there was EMF."

Amber shook her head, "just some old bones. We never saw an apparition anyway, so…"

Sam smiled "bad theatre luck which has now been taken care of."

Rose didn't look convinced. Amber picked up her pickle.

"So where you guys off to now?"

Sam shrugged, but Dean answered pretty quickly, "I was thinking if the play is still on maybe we would stay and watch it. I kinda want to know what happens to that Benedick guy. I mean, if the kids are OK, the show goes on, right?"

Sam gaped at his brother. Then he shut his mouth with a snap when Dean glared at him. Amber smothered a giggle with her hand and there was that funny smacking sound underneath the table that made Sam think Rose was stomping on the other woman's foot.

"Well, it will be two weeks. You really want to stay that long?" Rose asked.

Two weeks was a long time. They did have things to do. "What if we happened to be passing back through?"

Amber smiled. "Tickets are on us. Best seats in the house."

"Well that was easy." Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot of "The Whit's End" motel. They were on their way to look at what sounded like a routine haunting in Macon. The back seat held a bag of some really good brownies that Rose had made and all their laundry was clean and folded thanks to Amber's mom. It kind of even made the car smell fresher…

Sam nodded. "Kind of anti-climactic, really."

Dean smirked at him. "Yeah, I totally thought you were gonna try to hit that Brit Lit Chick… You dreamt about her loudly enough."

Sam just looked out the window and didn't say anything.

Amber watched Rose set up some new blocking for the kids who had missed the last two weeks of rehearsals. Other than the catch up it was sort of like nothing had happened. Somehow Amber didn't think it was that simple. Part of her even hoped it wasn't that simple. The idea that Gill Bilbert had spiked the kids' make-up with some arcane acid in order to sabotage the theatre program was almost as disturbing as the idea that there was no way to prove it and nothing to do about it. Not to mention the thing about the bones was just creepy. It totally killed the buzz of knowing they had actually met Sam and Dean (and she thought that Winchester was the perfect last name, she'd always thought of them as Smith or Wessen, but Winchester was best…). Maybe in a few more days that part would go back to being warm and fluffy. One could only hope. At least opening night was back on track just a few more days, the kids were working so hard, Rose was finally gonna get her great Shakespearean Production and the county would know this was a drama program to be remembered!

By the time rehearsal was over the feeling of dread had grown pretty insistent, but there was nothing Amber could do about it. The kids were working hard, there were no mishaps and Rose was so excited. She was finally gonna get ahead on something she really wanted, really loved and also with that difficult administrator. It was supposed to be Win-Win for everyone, right?

"You really meant it when you said we would try to make it back and see Rose and Amber's play?" Sam said hopefully to Dean as they sped up 441 out of Florida, toward Atlanta.

"Put away the puppy eyes. I know you want to go and I plan to get us there. 7 PM, right?"

"With enough time to find a motel and shower first? Cause, Dude, you… we are pretty ripe…"

"Ghoul guts will do that." Dean grinned, "Yeah. I think I even have one clean shirt and one clean pair of jeans left… You?"

Sam turned slightly pink and turned away, but Dean heard him, "I had one saved just to be sure."

"Miss Moore! Miss Moore! Jeffery said…" Helen was at it again. Apparently so was Jeffery. Rose and Amber were starting to think just killing them both was the only way to stop the madness. In the past three days the sewage system had backed up, two lights had fallen and three boards had popped up on stage. However no one was in the hospital or euphoric, so they were chalking it up to bad luck and moving on. At least everyone knew their lines…

"Um, Miss Chandler and Miss Moore said they would leave tickets for us, under the name Winchester." Sam said to the rather odd drama mom sitting at the table. She smiled up at them with a rather blank expression.

"Yes, right here. Enjoy the show."

"See, Sammy, we made it with plenty of time. Maybe you could take Miss Chandler out for drinks after… or something." Sam was pretty sure Dean was humming "Hot for Teacher" as he walked through the door.

"Wait, Dean, do you smell that?"

"I told you I took a shower when you went to grab us a soda. Lay off me."

"No, it smells sweet and there's something…"

"Granted, it's a high school, but you were in college. You gonna tell me you never smelled a sweet smoke?"

Sam was urgent now, "Look. It's coming from that alcove."

Dean turned to see Sam was right, there was a purplish smoke faintly wafting out of the far hallway away from the theatre door, across the cafeteria. Sam grabbed Dean's arm as he reached behind him for a gun…

"Not in a school!" Then Sam moved forward, "Come on!"

The man was not short, but of slight build. On the floor of the small janitor's closet he had painted some rather disturbing symbols and there was a small pot of something vile burning in the center. He was reciting something in Gaelic and there were bones in his hand.

Dean tackled him and Sam dropped his jacket over the urn, smothering it.

"Are you kidding me? This is a school! What the Hell!" Dean yelled as he punched the guy.

Talk about howling.

"Those twits were ruining my reputation! I couldn't have it! I couldn't have it. No one does Shakespeare successfully with High Schoolers! They aren't ready and they were going to make me look like a fool!"

"Quit monologuing and take it like a man!" Dean said as he hit him one more time, knocking him unconscious.

Sam glanced at his watch. "If we tie him up, we can still make the show."

"So it WAS a spell AND a ghost AND drugged makeup?" Rose asked, trying to make sure she had this right.

"He was using ghost energy from some old actor's bones to generally curse you with bad luck that he also may have helped along with that wacky theatre make –up."

"How do we explain THAT to the police?" Amber asked.

Sam smiled, this was his specialty. "You don't. The drug residue on his hands, along with the dead guys' genetic material under his finger nails, some rope fibers in his car and the anonymous tip to where he happens to be lying unconscious in his car should be enough to get him."

Dean grinned. "You always have been a fine, upstanding citizen, Sammy."

Amber started to giggle and Rose was having trouble keeping her smile from swallowing her face.

Dean smiled down at Amber and glanced at Rose and Sam. "Hey, Amber, will you come sign my program."

Amber glanced at the two tallest people in the room and smiled back. "It's a really drama geek thing to ask, but for you, I'll stoop."

"You think they'll jump for it?" Amber asked Dean as they walked away.

"How straight laced is your friend?" Dean countered.

Amber shook her head. "Yeah, never mind. She is a good cook, though, he'll get a good meal."

"Yeah, those brownies were good, so not a total loss. Um, is that diner open late?"

Amber chuckled. "24 hours. Come on. I'll get you a burger or two."

"Why do you guys keep buying our food?"

Amber shook her head ruefully at him. "Don't want you to get arrested for credit card fraud. Folks around here actually check ID against cards."

Dean folded her arm over his in his most gallant gesture.

"So do all teachers know everything or is it just you?"

Amber gave him an evil wink, "It's something they teach us a wit…, I mean teacher school."

Sam watched Dean and Amber walk away and then glanced over at Rose who was staring off into space with a very relieved look. He wondered if she even knew he was there.

"Um, the play was really good."

Rose nodded. "Yeah the kids did a great job. So where are you guys off to, now?"

Sam stuttered, "Uh, well, we won't leave until morning and then I'm not sure."

At least now he had her attention. "I hope things are OK for you now at work. I mean the play was great."

Rose smiled absently, "Yeah the kids did a great job and I think I saw the AP smile, so all better, for the most part."

Sam took a step closer, "What you are doing is important." He leaned in closer, awkwardly, unsure, but slightly determined.

Rose cocked her head and then laughed softly. She ran the back of her hand across his cheek.

"Sam, you really are a sweet guy, and your brother is a sweet jerk, but you are way too young for me. You could have been one of my students. Tell you what, though. Why don't you bring your laundry over to my place and I'll make you dinner."

Sam deflated slightly, "Um, well…."

Rose's hand came to rest on his shoulder, "Seriously, it's the nicest compliment I've had in years and I wish I was five years younger, but…" Then she tilted her head the other way.

"Oh, what the hell. Who says we can't have a little dessert while the dryer is running!"

Kissing someone whose face was on his level was kind of nice, Sam thought to himself.

Rose could have sworn someone was humming "Hot for Teacher." But she was too busy to give it much thought.


End file.
